


Anata wo Ubau no? (What if I tore you away from here?)

by vogue91



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Character Death, Dark, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Murder, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 13:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14473809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: Even if he had broken up with him, Hikaru would’ve understood.He would’ve suffered, he would’ve felt broken inside, but he would’ve understood.And if Kota had chosen silence, he was going to pay him back just like that.





	Anata wo Ubau no? (What if I tore you away from here?)

Hikaru wished he could’ve told him.

Every time their eyes met, it was them talking for him, telling him his instinct wasn’t wrong, it wasn’t paranoia, it wasn’t his imagination fed by the fear or losing him, playing tricks on his perception of reality.

He wished he could’ve convinced himself it was like that.

And he had also managed that, for a while.

Then the signals had become a little more definite, then they had become certainties, without him being able to do anything to lie to himself.

Yabu had come back home a little later that night, after having told him he had to work.

Hikaru had nodded, and hadn’t insisted.

Kota had gone to bed, telling him he was tired after the whole day between interviews and recordings. And Hikaru had told him he was coming in a while, that he wasn’t sleepy.

In hindsight, he wished he had followed him.

His boyfriend’s phone, forgotten on the table at the entrance next to his keys, had vibrated.

Hikaru had stayed on the couch a while longer, as frozen.

There was something inside him telling him not to move. That he didn’t want to know who the e-mail was from, nor what it said, that knowing it would’ve hurt.

But, normally so trusting of his instinct, this time he had chosen to ignore it.

He had gone towards the front door, unsteady, as if walking toward the gallows.

He already didn’t like the name on the screen.

_Kei-chan._

Hikaru had bitten his lip, and again had told himself to cut it, that it was none of his business, that he should’ve have read.

And again he had chosen to ignore the voice in his head, by now telling.

He had taken the phone with his hands shivering a little, and had opened the e-mail.

He froze.

_I’ve had an amazing time with you today. Thank you, Ko._

Hikaru had always told himself that jealousy was pointless. That Kei and Yabu were best friends, that they had been knowing each other for ever, that he had no reason to be afraid of their relationship.

But deep down he had never believed himself, and right now he had to sadly ascertain he had been right not doing so.

He had ignored it.

The days went by, and he pretended nothing had happened. He kept acting with Yabu exactly like before, he kept pretending to blindly believe the poor excuses he found for his lateness or little credible engagements.

He felt almost offended by the lack of zeal the elder put into making up better justifications.

As if he didn’t deserve it.

As if what there was between them was expendable, as if he wasn’t even worth the attempt to hide his affair with Inoo.

Hikaru had spent the past few days thinking about what to do, and in the end he had decided.

He was home alone, Yabu had gone out for lunch with Dai-chan and Yuya. And, for once, it was the truth.

He went to the bathroom, staring absorbed at the drugs cabinet.

It was then that he made a decision.

Done what he had to, he wandered through the apartment for a while, trying to put some order in what was going on.

He went to the shelters over the TV in the living room, brushing the frames of his and Yabu’s pictures.

Pictures form when they still were Ya-Ya-Yah. Pictures of them in Yokohama, the day Kota had brought him there for their anniversary. Pictures of them happy, always.

Or at least, that’s what they showed.

In front of him there were five years of a relationship that he couldn’t recognise anymore.

He didn’t know which of Yabu’s smiles were true.

He didn’t know if he actually was happy in each of the pictures.

He had taken for granted that it was like that.

Because he had been, more than he could’ve ever imagined.

He had been happy because he loved him, because he could be by his side, because he was all he had ever asked for.

But apparently that love hadn’t been enough for Kota. Apparently Hikaru wasn’t the one he wanted. Apparently there was something in that relationship that made him feel incomplete.

Hikaru wondered whether Kei managed to make him feel better.

And then he told himself it didn’t matter.

That he would’ve, had Kota gone and talked to him, had he told him there was something wrong between them, that he needed something more.

Even if he had broken up with him, Hikaru would’ve understood.

He would’ve suffered, he would’ve felt broken inside, but he would’ve understood.

And if Kota had chosen silence, he was going to pay him back just like that.

He held tight on one of the frames, then threw it on the ground.

He knelt, taking the picture, hurting himself with the glass, but it didn’t bother him.

Kota smiled.

Hi head was on his shoulder, his arm around his waist and he smiled.

Hikaru felt like choking that smile.

He felt like tearing it away from his face, like he had torn the happiness away from his own.

And he was going to.

He stood up, crumpling the picture in the wounded hand, so that those faces were now twisted, stained, tarnished.

Then he went to the front door, throwing the picture away distractedly, as if it had no worth.

And after all, he told himself, they didn’t anymore.

 

~

 

He could tell him from the look on his face, Kei wasn’t happy to see him.

Hikaru smiled, so damn fake without even bothering to hide it.

The elder sat on the armchair in front of him, staring confusedly at him, waiting for him to say something.

Hikaru looked at him almost fascinated, while he saw him getting a firm hold of his coffee mug, his knuckles white, masking the nervousness Inoo was trying not to show. 

He sighed, raising his eyes on him.

He looked innocent. An innocent so face that it disgusted him.

Kei had always been like that.

The angel face, the look of who constantly lived in his own world, and the brain running faster than anyone else’s.

He loathed him.

He loathed everything about him.

He loathed those hands, sure they had touched Kota, he loathed that mouth, sure that it had kissed him, he loathed that body, sure that it had known that of his boyfriend in a way that he used to think was reserved to him.

The only thing he liked about him right now was his tense look.

It made him feel powerful, and it made him feel the taste of revenge in every fibre of his body.

He nodded at the mug the elder had in his hands, still smiling.

“Will you make some coffee for me too, Kei-chan?” he asked, the same innocent face. Kei stared at him, defensive, but then he nodded.

“Of course, Hikaru.” he replied in a whisper, then he put his mug down on the coffee table and went to the kitchen.

The other saw him disappear through the door and rushed.

He took a small bag out of his pocket, pouring its content in Inoo’s mug, stirring it carefully, until he saw the powder melt and blending with the beverage.

He sat back on the armchair, crossing his arms and allowing himself to smile.

It had taken him a while to crush all the sleeping pills.

Yabu had gotten those prescribed over a year before, giving up straight away on them saying that he didn’t actually needed them, and had abandoned them there.

Hikaru waited patiently, and started feeling antsy only when he saw Kei coming back to the living room with the mug in his hands.

He took it, with another smile, and didn’t start drinking just yet.

Inoo went back sitting, taking back his own coffee.

“Hikaru... why are you here?” he asked then, giving up on any attempt at civilization.

The younger’s smile grew, he tilted his head and didn’t stop staring at him.

He saw him taking a sip and looking confused, shrugging and drinking again.

A small sip, but Hikaru felt grateful for it.

It was only extending the time in which he could’ve enjoyed his revenge.

“I’ve come to talk to you about your relationship with Yabu.” he replied, calm.

Kei couldn’t help blushing.

“What relationship, Hikaru?” he asked, but his voice already showed he wasn’t going to deny it for long.

Another sip, another wince.

“Don’t lie to me, Kei. It’s pointless, now. I don’t want justifications, I don’t want excuses. I just want to know why.” he replied, his face suddenly cold, detached.

He saw Inoo biting his lip and lowering his eyes before answering.

“Because I love him and he loves me. It wasn’t planned, it just happened, Hikaru. It wasn’t to do you any wrong, neither of us could’ve ever imagined...” he said, but the younger interrupted him.

“Shut up. Shut up, please.” he hissed.

Another sip, and the bitter taste must’ve softened by now.

“I’m sorry, Hikaru.” the elder murmured, the mug now empty abandoned on the coffee table.

The other stared at him, hating himself because right now his rage was sharp enough to suffocate any feeling of victory for the completion of his victory.

They kept staring at each other, until Kei started coughing, holding his throat.

Hikaru saw the horror in his eyes, that met his own as to find confirmation of his most dreaded suspicions.

And they found it.

He went toward him, kneeling at the feet of the armchair and looking at him while breathing got harder, while his face was twisted by pain, while sweat started wetting his forehead.

“Can you feel your breath going away, Kei-chan? Can you feel your useless life slipping away?” he whispered, distractedly brushing his arm. “I’m glad that you and Yabu have loved each other. I’m glad that you can see now, is that love that’s killing you.” he went on.

He saw Kei gasp, agitated, as if he was trying to say something but couldn’t.

He was glad about it.

He didn’t want to hear him, he just wanted to see him die.

And he didn’t have to wait long.

Slowly the boy’s eyelids closed, as if they couldn’t stand their own weight anymore.

Slowly, his hand loosened the hold on his throat.

Slowly, he stopped moving.

Slowly he died, and Hikaru just hoped he had felt all the pain he was feeling right now.

The first part was done.

Kei didn’t move anymore, he wasn’t going to ever again.

He had died, knowing it was because of that love that was wrong for him to feel.

And Hikaru deemed it punishment enough.

 

~

 

At the day of the funeral, Hikaru had put on his best sorrowful face, complimenting himself for the act.

He had lot for which to be proud with himself.

He was proud because Kei’s death had been considered a suicide.

He was proud because before leaving he had erased his traces from that house, as if he had never been there.

He was proud, because he could see all the signs that Kei’s death had left on Yabu.

He saw him wallowing through the house, moving like a robot, unwilling to react.

He heard him cry every night, when he thought he was sleeping, he heard him despair, and rejoiced waking up every morning and see the mark of tears on his face.

He felt his guilt, even though he couldn’t talk to him about it.

Because he was still pretending to cry the death of a friend.

Because he was pretending Kei had been nothing more for him.

Because that love that had killed Kei was now in chain inside of Kota, destined to stay buried there.

He knew Kota kept thinking Kei had died because of him, that he had taken his life because he wasn’t willing to give him more than he already did, and Hikaru was very glad about the outcome.

Because Kei had actually died for him.

For that love, the one he had given him, the one he had never been able to admit.

Kei was gone, and Kota was as well.

There were his shadow, his body, his shell, but he had an abyss open inside of him that Hikaru couldn’t and didn’t want to fill.

And until Kota would’ve stayed by his side, right where he wanted him, he would’ve witnessed that ruination day after day, already knowing he was never going to grow tired of his pain.

He still love Kota, and he knew he was never going to stop loving him.

And he enjoyed that show because his love was still alive, while Kei had brought theirs to the grave.

At nights, Yabu’s tears were accompanied by his smiles.

Those tears were the final act of his revenge.

 


End file.
